


Last Breath

by Strawberrybats



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: F/F, also picking a title was such a pain tbh it might change haha, have my self serving robot au because no shame november amiright, more characters will be added as they appear - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-30 16:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8541118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberrybats/pseuds/Strawberrybats
Summary: Not for the first time, Umi wonders if it's lonely, being Honoka - being the very last of her kind on the planet - and not for the first time, she wonders if there's any way to help her ease that feeling. She doesn't know anymore if she's wondering for Honoka's sake or her own. It's unnerving.
((AU where humans fled the earth in ships, and Honoka was left behind in stasis, to be found by a Very Gay robot, two hundred years in the future.))





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Haha what’s up time for robots and melodrama because i need to work on present tense and building up to things!!! take my practice, friends,,,,, I have the whole story planned out, this is part one of maybe six or so?? yeah,,,
> 
> I'm!! gay!!! for!! umi sonoda having highly compromising existential crises!!!! same 4 honoka

There were fields here, once. Long, long stretches of plant matter and an unobscured view of the sky, planes and clouds flying past as the sun cycled and signaled one more day.

It isn’t like that, anymore, but there’s still a field, only instead of grass there are bits of building and grey-brown earth.

Deftly, Umi steps over a wooden piece that had once been part of a different, older building, from the field-time. She carries a bundle of sticks, and readjusts her arms so that none fall from her hold when she moves. Her coworker, Kotori, accompanies her – their task was to help lure in a bird population to the area.

That’s what they’re for, right? Preservation.

Umi feels the crunch of broken glass beneath her foot and continues undeterred. Kotori follows behind. They don’t need words after working in tandem for so long; it’s enough to know that they’re both walking to the same place and that Umi is leading.

Today they were going far out into the remnants, past even the outermost layer of buildings, to see if they might draw the wildlife in from there.

They walk until Kotori points at the upcoming treeline and tells Umi that the coordinates match what they were given. Umi cocked her head to the side, trying to pick the most strategic place to put a bird’s nest. “Kotori,” She says, at length. Kotori looks over to her. “Would it be more suitable in a higher branch for privacy, or a lower branch so that we might observe it?”

“Privacy.” There isn’t much of a question in her tone. “I believe it would be even more effective to travel further past the treeline. There are indications of life deeper in there, so they will have more food.”

“And potentially more predators,” Umi points out, but Kotori is already walking.

Umi follows, trusting her judgment this once.

Before they get as deep as Kotori would have deemed satisfactory, though, they come across a building. The old kind, the wooden kind, with walls so thickly encrusted with plants that they seem to have become trees themselves. Caked layers of dirt above dirt stick to the sides while the duo circles the property.

“We should go in.” Kotori says, stating the obvious, perhaps, but nonetheless being direct about it. “We may find something useful.”

Umi nods once, steps back to determine the weakest point of the structure ( _there_ , says a small voice in the back of her mind, white wireframes in her vision circling a space near the middle where dark, collected rust could be seen through the ivy plants), takes another backwards step, and promptly kicks a hole in the wall. It crumbles and she steps in, feeling her arm snag on the jagged entry hole.

Fixable, she tells herself, and presses on. Kotori looks somewhat more careful coming in, and the two find themselves in a small, dusty room together, sunlight and dust filtering through Umi’s entry hole in equal measure.

And, in the far corner of the room, a light flickers back to life. Kotori and Umi exchange a look and draw closer, tentatively setting their sticks down outside the entry hole. It’s Kotori who kneels by the light, gently wiping some of the dust away from the surrounding area. First a screen is revealed, then the entire monitor. Umi waits for Kotori to do her work, seeing her place a hand over the ports – how _archaic_ is that device, anyways – and inspecting the slick metal cylinder beside it all while Kotori is occupied. If she runs her hand across it, she can feel a slight indentation….perhaps it opened?

Kotori stands up sharply and suddenly, letting out a surprised pulse. “Umi, I think this was a stasis chamber.”

She blinks. That means nothing to her.

Kotori tries again, this time pointing excitedly to the metal cylinder. “There is a human in there, Umi! One that can come back to life without the use of video or audio recording!”

“You’re serious?” She asks, shoulders slack. Kotori gives a grave nod and holds a hand above the monitor – there’s a keyboard, but she has no need. There is a long, faint hissing sound, until –

The cylinder slides open.

In a soft blue light, standing only with the aid of the wall and a loose frame around the midwaist and arms, there is a person. Arms limp at her sides, eyes shut gently, and long, orange hair falling about her shoulders. She is breathing – chest constricting, then expanding. She is short, and sleeping, and-

A human.

They both stand still, waiting for a movement, some sort of indicator that she wasn’t comatose, until her head droops and, soon after, the rest of her body. Discarded tubes and wires dangle behind her in her absence. Umi rushes forward to catch her, looping her arms underneath the girl’s, and suddenly she makes eye contact; Umi sees the contracting pupils and the blue iris both aimed at her.

Umi is frightened by it, and drops her.

….not a fitting first meeting.

-  
Luckily, there are always second chances, and where Umi had failed, Kotori had been able to swoop in and catch the girl before she fell, earning a grateful sounding ‘mmmf!’ for her troubles. Umi has to stop herself from being startled again. Such a cute noise. Are all humans capable of producing such a wide spectrum? Could android voice banks even be expanded upon anymore without a human to record for them?

What it must be like, Umi thinks, to speak with a voice you did not share with several thousand others. She would like to know that sensation sometime.

Back in the present, real world, the girl Kotori had caught rights herself, moving to stand on her own two feet. She looks around. Takes a deep, deep breath, as though she has to inhale every last particle of oxygen separately, before her shoulders slump and she gives the two of them a more pitiful look than Umi could ever recall seeing. “Everything is so dusty…..How long was I asleep? Who are you two?”

Kotori answers, seeing as she was always the more wordy between the two of them – it wasn’t Umi’s job to be wordy, anyhow, her job is to be loyal and know what to do – and starts things off with a comforting hand on the Human’s shoulder. Umi also wants to touch, but two at once would be too much. She has to wait.

“If the data I retrieved from your machine is correct, you were put into an unanimated state about…… two hundred years ago. While you were away, the human race lost the war and fled the planet in ships, which we believe were ultimately destroyed in the asteroid belt.” Kotori explains, in a soft, even tone. Her voicebank is better suited for diplomacy.

Even so, the human’s face gets sadder, even more pitiful, and her eyebrows move down and suddenly there’s liquid threatening to spill over the edges of her lower eyelids. “And what’s left…?” She asks. Despondently. Like she knows.

“If our other info is to be believed, you are the last one. Umi and I are androids.”

Umi doesn’t know if it was because of the way humans had programmed the first androids, but she finds herself attempting to mirror the expression that crossed the girl’s face then. She got the sense she hadn’t come too close (and probably just looked like she was glaring, frankly) and wipes her facial rig back to neutral before moving to comfort her. Kotori seems content to appraise the situation from a distance and get more information from the computer, which isn’t as inclined to burst into tears.

Umi envies her that job, but is unwilling to leave the girl hanging there, on the knowledge that she’s probably the last organic human that will ever be, has ever been – and tries her best to make things nicer, if only superficially.

“We can take care of you.” Umi says, not unkindly. “You will be treated well should you return to the city.”

Rather than respond, she pulls her legs up to her chin and sniffles. Umi can’t see her face anymore, but  tries again, dropping to a kneel. She doesn’t try to move her legs out of the way; she just wants to make sure she can be heard through them at such a soft tone.  “It’s clear you’re facing stress right now, but there is still food and water on the planet. We don’t need it – you can have as much of either as you want.” She consoles. “Everyone will treat you kindly.”

One of her knees moves out of the way just a sliver. The girl stares at Umi through it. “Do you know why they left me..? Am I going to be alone?” She asks. It sounds like she’s scared of the answer.

Kotori answers before much speculation can be made. “It seems like they forgot about this building, if the records are to be believed. There was an error when the call was sent to wake all the sleeping humans, and so your facility was completely forgotten in the panic. Pretty lucky, huh? Because you didn’t get up in a ship, you’re still alive!”

“Oh.” She says. She doesn’t sound happy.

The human seemed content to leave it at that; Umi stood by with unease while she spent the remainder of the hour curled up and occasionally letting slip some soft, sad noises. Kotori seemed equally uncomfortable in this not-silence, but remained close to her, staying at least within arms’ length.

“Does she have a name, Kotori?” Umi asks eventually, for lack of other productive things to do. She’d already gone out and placed the nests, as well as cleared the rubble and cleaned up their entry hole.

Surprisingly, Kotori isn’t the one that ends up answering.

“Honoka Kousaka.” With a loud crack – that she thought was bad, initially, until the girl expressed signs of comfort – she stood up, rubbing at the underside of her nose with one arm. She sniffles once or twice. “..”m sorry for being such a downer….It’s not like it’s your fault.”

“Precisely!” Kotori agrees in a cheerful voice. She walks towards the door. “Now that you have finished mourning, I am going to inform home of our return – I must leave the building for signal. Please wait a bit longer, okay?”

Honoka and Umi watch her leave and stand in silence, or maybe it’s camaraderie. Umi doubts that Honoka understands what is happening, and she herself is unsure about Kotori’s haste to leave the cottage.

 Now that she’s removed herself from her “I’m-in-pain-ball”, for lack of any other description for Umi to give it, Honoka seems a bit more curious in the world around her. She leans over and stares at Umi until she decides to return the look, assuming it’s the only proper response. Honoka sees this, looks startled, turns red, and averts her eyes.

Umi does not understand her.

“Hey, uh. Does that…hurt?” She sticks a hand out to Umi, laying it down where her arm had torn earlier. Honoka’s hand is warm on the cool, exposed metal graft. Umi repressed an automated flinch when she felt a prodding finger go beneath her false skin and settles for a thin frown. She can’t exactly ask her not to do as she pleases – but pretending to like it would be misleading.

Honoka quickly turns red again and removes her hand. “Sorry!”

“It is not an issue.” Umi settles on saying, after working her jaw in a circle, under the pretense of ‘thought’. “I don’t feel pain. I’m only alerted when I’m at risk of losing a system or segment of my body and advised to move away.”

Honoka leans back against the wall, face scrunched up in a way that shows off the flexible and endearing nature of otherwise wasteful extra skin on the face. “So, it’s sort of like, if I put my hand on a stove, my brain tells me to pull it away, because it’s bad for my hand. And it tells me by making it hurt,” She reasons, making gestures with the hand(s) in question as she talks. She continues. “Except, when you put _your_ hand on a stove, the brain just tells you to not, uh, do that, directly, sort of?”

“I have never used a stove.” Umi replies flatly. “My skin and exoskeleton are designed to withstand temperatures of up to about one hundred and fifty degrees Celsius, so it’s unlikely I would burn as quickly.”

Though she had given a perfectly factual and reasonable explanation, Honoka appears even more lost than before. “So……umm…..is that a definite no?”

That was when Umi realized that perhaps she would need to learn different ways to interact with humans. This approach didn’t work, so…..

“I don’t feel pain in the same way you know it, no. Please withhold your sympathies for me. My arm can be fixed with ease back in the city.”

It seemed to be the answer Honoka wanted to hear, because she hums, content, and twiddles her fingers while they wait for Kotori to step back in. Apparently, that was not the end of the conversation. “So, do you, like, run on solar energy now? Did they ever figure that out?”

Needing some way to translate to Honoka the relative uselessness of that sort of question, Umi raises one eyebrow, just a fraction. “Are you not familiar with androids? Surely you knew of some before you were put to sleep.”

She shrugs. “Well, _yeah_ , sure, but I didn’t know _you_. I didn’t know enough details for that kind of thing, either – I’m no technician.” This is followed by a short, meaningful laugh. Probably, an effort to remove the shame of not knowing what Honoka must assume is common knowledge.

Umi took it easy on her. Because it was human error, and the fact that it existed at all anymore stirred a pleasant jolt up her spine. Pleasant jolts made it much easier to be lenient. Maybe it was programmed in to prevent a revolt.

 It’s a weird thought.

In any case, Umi gives Honoka a fake smile and explains that solar energy had been used by most androids for upwards of three centuries now. Honoka gives an equally fake laugh and runs a hand through her hair, an action Umi watched curiously. Did it signify something? Was it an idle action? Or maybe her hair was just soft?

Seeing the gears turning (not literally; at least not within Honoka’s line of sight) Honoka blinks and looks at her own hand, then to Umi. “Do you want to touch it?”

It isn’t really gratified with a response, initially. Not even a blink. After turning the question around in her mind for a moment, Umi stiffly shakes her head no.

She didn’t want anything.

It’s then that Kotori comes back in with instructions from the city to bring Honoka in safely and at whatever pace suits the human best, with the promise of food, board and celebration when she arrived.

* * *

“So, why are there trees all over the place again? I don’t remember any forest this big from before.”

Umi had expected the walk back to be as silent as the one there. A brief, three hour march at a consistent speed, through more or less even terrain, on a trail that had never once done them a bit of wrong.

Unfortunately, Honoka had other ideas in mind.

Everything, and Umi did mean _everything_ , that Honoka could possibly stop to ask a question about, she did. Even while they walked, she talked and queried and pulled at clothes and on arms, eagerly looking for something to break the silence or an excuse to run off the trail and make a general nuisance of herself.

Honoka was essentially a god, surely, and should be revered as such, but if Umi were to assign a domain for her, it would be _chaos._

While Umi grew more and more rattled by the lack of quiet, Kotori answered each question as briefly and kindly as possible. “Just before they left, humans that felt bad about making the earth so inhospitable assigned a large group of androids to preserve and promote the wildlife. In everywhere but the major cities, those groups have worked to do that.”

“Do the seasons still work?”

“There are temperature changes and weather patterns that correspond to certain times of the year.”

“How about potatoes? Do we still grow those? I could totally go for some fries.”

“We can produce ‘fries’ for you in the city.”

“Any books left over? I don’t think my favorite comic series was ever finished, but maybe a volume came out while I was asleep…..”

“If you give me the title, I can summarize the entirety of it for you.”

“How about –“

Enough.

Enough.

_Enough._

Umi pivots on her heel, startling her companions and causing Honoka, whose reaction time is less than ideal, to crash into her, only staying up by a strong grip on Umi’s left arm. “Woah! Why’d we stop?”

“We are walking through territory that is known to have animals. It’s in the best interest of your safety to remain silent.” Umi leaves out the fact that she was designed specifically to guard against those kinds of dangers and that it wouldn’t have mattered one way or the other if an animal dangerous to Honoka appeared, mostly because that was the push Honoka needed to stop asking questions.

Kotori gives Umi an odd look, but brushes it off just as soon. Honoka lingers a little closer to the group but seems to realize now as the time for quiet anyways and stays quiet, at least for a while. Umi uses the opportunity to get organized, going over facts and points of interest, lining each one up and touching up on them one by one.

They are escorting the last known human.

They are an hour, fifteen minutes and forty seconds away from crossing the bridge into town. Umi can safely add another half an hour to that time because Honoka is unlikely to remain compliant for so long.

Honoka is younger, perhaps in her late teens or twenties. The energy she exudes is fitting and perhaps excessive, but by other metrics she is not in a good position. She has been sleeping for years, and her current lack of muscle and density is not desirable for someone of her age. Until she has been nursed to health, she may get sick more easily. They lack medicine to treat human sicknesses.

The sun will go down in less than an hour. When it does, it will grow cold. Honoka is not designed for cold. She will get sick.

Therefore, when they reach the abandoned farmplaces, she should suggest a fire and rest for Honoka.

The trio walks down the trail without issue for forty minutes, while the sun dips out of view and the sky tries on various shades of darkness – first a sea blue, then darker, then violet, and then an ink-like shade of blue, so dark it could be mistaken for a void of black.

Honoka, it seems, is more fixated on the stars than the realm behind them, but Umi looks to the empty space and wonders if the ships are there somewhere, wedged in between two stars with countless, countless miles between them and the atmosphere.

She starts talking again around the same time they reach a particularly cricket-heavy area. “Sooo, uh, nice night out, right? The bugs are loving it. I hear frogs, too. Are the ones around here poisonous? They never were before, but they haven’t like, mutated, or anything, right? I can still chase them?”

“No, but please don’t try,” Umi replies, even though the answer should have been clear enough. Honoka nods dumbly along to the instructions, but eyes the patches of thick grass with longing.

Kotori is less disapproving. “You know, technically, Honoka did not ask for your permission, so even giving it like that is a bit presumptuous, don’t you think? Or were you saying you don’t think she could catch any, regardless of attempts?”

Umi relents. “…Frogs have gotten larger in the past years because of the amount of insects. It should be easier to catch one if you really want to, Honoka.”

She grins, visible in part due to the quickness of the gesture and in part due to the night vision utilities Umi has. Kotori is probably having a harder time, getting through by memorization of the path alone. Now she’s the one annoyed by Honoka’s lack of obedience in staying on the trail.

Blissfully unaware of said annoyance, Honoka giggles from her low crouch and slams her hands upon a section of grass like a cat at play, trying to trap some poor amphibian between her fingers. When she succeeds, she holds it close enough to her face to see in the low lighting and yelps when it jumps out at her, surprised but happy.

It lands on her shirt and she scoops it off, proudly displaying it to Umi. “He’s cute! I’m naming him George.”

“George is not fond of being held.” Umi points out, as the frog writhes between Honoka’s palm and thumb, mouth cracked open to let a disgruntled croak slip.

Honoka shakes her head. “I know, I know, it’s mean of me, but he is really cute. I’ll let him go…..riiiight…. _now_!” She gets suddenly louder at the end and tosses the frog onto Umi, landing it in her lengthy hair.

Umi stares.

And stares.

Eventually, she reaches up and grasps the frog, then sets it gently on the ground. “Throwing it was rude,” She says, watching it bounce off into the night. “It could have broken something.”

Looking put out, Honoka just nods again. “I expected a little bit more of a reaction than that…”

“Well, it’s not as if I’ve never seen a frog before.”  She replies succinctly, then has a look around the area. They are almost at the fields. “Honoka.”

“Huh?” Honoka looks up from staring off after the frog. “What’s up?”

“It’s getting cold and dark out. Do you prefer we stop to rest or continue going?”

Honoka mulls it over. Frowns. “I slept for two hundred years. And it’s been just as long since I’ve eaten…..I’d rather tough it out for tonight than wait any longer,” She admits.

Fair enough. “If you get tired, tell me. We can stop, or I could carry you.”

“Alright! I think I’ll hold off on that for now, it’ll do me some good to stretch my legs out a little, you know?” That being said, she runs off ahead of them, staying just within Umi’s line of sight. Kotori pulls up next to her.

“She’s quite interesting, isn’t she?” Kotori asks, peering off into the distance where she’d gone.

“That’s certainly a word for it. What do you think will be done when we reach the city? Who is responsible for her?”

Kotori gives a noncommittal shrug in response. “I don’t know. She’ll be cared for by _someone_ , though.”

* * *

Since they didn’t stop, they reach the city in the very early morning, but there are other androids there, waiting. One seems to be of an older make than the rest, wringing her hands nervously, in a practiced manner. She has short, brown hair, and Umi isn’t certain she can place a class or job for her – she isn’t dressed in any particular way.

One of them intercepts the group. “Hello. This girl is the human?”

Umi and Kotori nod in unison. Honoka appears somewhat nervous.

The leader of the meeting group, a signal android, takes Honoka by the hand and leads her to the center of the group. Umi finds herself trying to angle her head in such a way that she can still see what Honoka is doing in there.

The android she couldn’t place turns out to be an old service bot, a personal assistant of sorts. Hanayo. She greets Honoka and promises to care for her. Honoka nods absently and looks back to the other two, separate from the group. “Are they still going to be escorting me?”

“It won’t be necessary, but if you have formed an attachment, it can be arranged.” Umi silently hopes that is the case.

Honoka looks focused, moreso than usual, and nods. “I, uh, would like to see them later. If I can ask, do you think you can fix Umi’s arm? She snagged it trying to help me.”

“Of course. Sonoda. Follow the mechanic to the station.” She nods and does as she’s told, stepping far from the group and leaving Kotori to watch Honoka in her stead.  Even though it was out of kindness, it would have been nice if Umi could have watched her a little longer.

In the repairs shop, Umi powers down for her mandated resting, while her arm is taken off and resuited with newer, untorn skin. In her sleep, still vaguely conscious in the local data(or at least enough to receive incoming information), drifting to and from satellite ranges, she learns through Kotori that Honoka has been moved to a living space high above the city.

She hopes it’s not barren, recalling Honoka’s earlier fears.

She hopes Honoka misses her, even if she's not sure why, yet.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand here's chapter two! I will try to stay semi-consistent, because like i said, this is actually planned out all the way for once, haha. Thank you all so much for your very kind comments and kudos,,,,,i feed on them,,,,,,, :')
> 
> I expect that next chapter will also take around two weeks, but for now, I hope this one lives up to the first! Enjoy!

Umi’s hopes, supposing she’s bold enough to even call them that – are fulfilled much sooner than she thought. It’s about noon, then, when she gets the call. They only just finished repairing her arm when Kotori is patched through, a tinny voice beside her left ear, from a communicator they had installed.  “Honoka’s handler says she wants to see you. Do you know where she is?”

“Yes. When do I report?”

“Right now. We aren’t going to be dispatched for a while anyways, because of all the chaos.” She sounds like she’s waving it off; There isn’t any need for real instructions. “Her needs go first.”

“Understood. I’m leaving the repairs now.” Umi shrugs, rolling her new arm in its socket. It feels the same as the last one, but there’s something off about the way it clicks with her shoulder, it hasn’t been worn in as much as her last one. She resolves to try and fix it as soon as she can. It still seems a waste to let an entire arm get trashed because of a scrape, but it _was_ Honoka’s request.

She leaves the building without so much as a cursory nod at the ones who fixed her arm. In part because it is the routine, and in part because the maintenance androids are uncomfortable, to her. They were never luxury bots, back when the humans had ruled, and that didn’t change when they all died and left the androids in charge. Maintenance bots do not have skin, or faces, or eyes, like the rest of them.  Umi isn’t sure why they were designed that way.

All musing aside, Umi rolls her arm one more time in its socket and makes haste for the hotel Honoka will be waiting for her in.

For her. The words give Umi a small shiver. It’s nice.

The hotel is tall, the tallest building in the city, and the rooms at the bottom are little more than pods, stacked on top of and beside each other in any possible array or spread that the engineers could think of. They get bigger towards the top, and Umi knows Honoka is staying in the biggest, at the peak of the building, close enough to reach out her window and touch a cloud.

Well, pretend to. Umi thinks even Honoka knows the clouds aren’t actually there, or close enough to reach from a window without risk.

She walks a little faster, though, in case she’s wrong. There isn’t a receptionist because the building is absolutely worthless to the androids, kept open only because there are too many androids, undying, and they must be put to work cleaning _something_. That is the situation in most buildings.  Umi rides the elevator up and examines the sides of the wall while she waits.

When the elevator door slides open, she is reminded so much of finding Honoka that she almost expects her to fall out from the room, unconscious, again.

But that isn’t what happens, and, after a dazed moment, Umi brushes it off and walks in, finding another android standing in wait beside a bed, where Honoka is lying in an unattractive sprawl of limbs. Umi approaches her and she turns. “Oh, you’re…Umi, right?”

She nods. “You’re Hanayo.” Umi doesn’t need to ask because she’d been there when she was introduced, but Hanayo nods anyways, as if she was confirming it. “I was told Honoka requested me?”

“She’s sleeping,” Hanayo says sheepishly, tipping her head in the direction of the snoozing redhead.  “I don’t want to wake her up. Do you mind waiting? She’s probably very tired.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Umi says, but then they’re sort of stuck, because it’s true that she doesn’t mind waiting, but it is equally true that she has nothing to do while she waits. Does she sit down and stare? Explore the building for threats? She knows nothing is in it, but that’s the only pastime she has.

It’s quite unfortunate, actually.

Luckily (?) Hanayo does have some things planned. “The rooms are already spotless, but would you like to help me organize the rooms a little more? Honoka seemed uncomfortable upon her arrival.” She pauses, then looks to the bed and gets a wry little smile on her face, an expression Umi is curious about. “Well, before she passed out like a log, anyways.”

“A log?” Umi asks. That…makes no sense.

Hanayo laughs at her. It’s only a little embarrassing, because she does it in such a friendly-looking way. “It’s – it’s an expression. Nonliteral speech that humans liked a lot. You should really pick some up, they’re very interesting. Honoka uses a lot of them.”

“Interesting.” She settles on saying. “I’d like to rearrange the apartment now.”

“Okay. Let’s get started with the game room, I can already tell that’s where Honoka will want to spend most of the day.” Hanayo leads her into one of the rooms, where there is a shelf with many slim cases lined up in no particular order; they haven’t been alphabetized or color coded, which is what Umi assumes she is there to fix. There is also a large TV, and several boxes next to it, as well as a single couch, seven feet from it. It is a very – aside from the shelf – organized room.

Which is why Umi is so dismayed when Hanayo begins to move the boxed devices in front of the TV from their stacks, and pull out cords and connect them haphazardly to a power strip, allowing them to bundle and get mixed up in the process. She also pushes the couch, but not in a straight line, she moves it to be at a slant and then leaves the room, bringing a small tray table in with her. She puts it in front of one side of the couch, nowhere near the center.

She is mortified. “Why on earth would you make the room more difficult to organize?”

Hanayo looks up from her handiwork and makes a face. “Well, I wasn’t asked to make it organized.”

“Honoka asked you to make a huge mess?” Umi is incredulous, but supposes it does sound like something Honoka would suggest, at least from her short time being in contact with her.

To her surprise, Hanayo shakes her head. “She didn’t ask. This just feels more livable.”

Even though that sounds completely right, Umi can’t help but be a little offended. Hadn’t Kotori corrected her just last evening about not making assumptions for the human? She could do whatever she _wanted_ to them, the whole god damned world is literally built to suit _her_ needs, what if Hanayo did it wrong? “Can you really make assumptions like that?”

“Well gosh, I hope so. It is kind of my job.” Hanayo giggles again, pushes her glasses up by the frame on the right side. It gives her a kind of goofy look, that moment when they aren’t aligned properly and it looks like she’s swinging them out of place, and Umi imagines that it’s intentional.

Hanayo is an expert, she realizes belatedly. She was designed to have the closest thing to an understanding of humanity as robots could ever get. Of course she understands more than Umi. There must be something she can’t see, an aspect of Honoka she’d overlooked. Best to leave it to Hanayo.

“Right. My apologies.”

Even though she volunteered to help, Umi ends up blankly looking on while Hanayo makes other, subtle messes in the room, never making it _dirty_ , exactly, so much as making it look like it was being used. When Hanayo stands up and faces her, Umi nearly jumps.

“You really can’t wait for her to wake up, can you?” She asks, and it’s just as on-the-nose as everything else she’s been saying. Hanayo leads Umi into the kitchen and she watches her turn on something – a stove? Wasn’t Honoka talking about those before?

It looks like Hanayo is just going to ignore her after that, but she talks again, while she’s pulling cans out of the cupboard. “Honoka is really quite the human. I wonder if it’s good luck or bad luck that it’s someone like her that survived?”

“What do you mean, _someone like her_?” Umi adds a layer of threat to it, even going as far as to stop Hanayo in her movements and turn her around.

Insulting their superior like that….!

Hanayo looks over at the bed, where Honoka is still sleeping, despite the sudden tension in the room. Tension doesn’t matter to a sleeping god, probably, Umi thinks.

“The whole world is hers,” Hanayo says, carefully, and pushes Umi’s hands off herself. “I’m just not sure she wants it.”

And just like that, the conversation seems to be over. Hanayo turns around again, the device in front of her having warmed up enough to cook the food, and she dumps it on and lazily stirs it in the pan, orderly, on a timer.

Umi frowns and sits down beside the bed because it’s the only thing left for her to do. Honoka is not motionless in her sleep, like she was in the stasis chamber. Umi would like to catch her again, but regrettably, she is completely horizontal and at no risk of falling.

Thirty seven minutes and seventeen seconds of silence later, Honoka rolls over on the bed with a groan, startling Umi into getting up off the chair beside her. She rolls another time, then mumbles, idle, and gets up with the help of her arms behind her. She’s still half asleep when she opens her eyes and looks up blearily at Umi. She seems happy, though.

“Oh, so we’re going two-for-two, are we?” Honoka rubs at her eyes some more, then sits up a little straighter in the bed. She looks at Umi expectantly.

She doesn’t have a clue what she expects, though. “I’m sorry?”

Honoka makes a face. “I didn’t mean it like that! You aren’t so bad to wake up to, y’know.”

Now much more awake, she shifts in the bed and moves so that her legs are nearer to the edge, swinging them over and stretching her back and arms with an exaggerated motion. “Didja get your arm patched up?”

This is a question that Umi is actually prepared to answer. She’s pleased with herself, and proudly presents Honoka with the arm in question, like a badge. “Yes, the skin has been replaced. Thank you for your generosity. Many have waited a week or longer to get that service.”

Honoka looks a bit uncomfortable at that; and turns a curious color while she dips her head. “Uh, no problem, I guess? I didn’t know there was usually a waiting line….” She scratches at her neck, eyes still roaming, resting anywhere but on Umi. She coughs. “Is Kotori here, too?”

“No, I didn’t know you requested her. I can alert someone-“

She waves her arms frantically, catching Umi’s attention before she can turn around to get Hanayo to make a call. “W-wait! That was just a question, I’m not asking you to do anything! She’s probably busy!”

Umi reluctantly turns around, lowering her head.  “It’s surely no trouble to her; she’s only filling in the rest of them on the details of your discovery. It’s nothing she couldn’t just drop into a drive for them and be done with.”

“Still…” Honoka sighs, and stands up fully. “I’d rather not bother anyone for now, okay?” Umi nods, and she seems relieved for a moment before flashing her a smile. “So, when did you get here? Are you going to be living with me for now?”

“I was told you wished to see me about an hour ago and came as soon as possible. I’d just finished repairs when I got the notification.” She reports dutifully, back straight, politely. She’s a little taller than Honoka, and wonders if that’s subject to change. Probably not, since she’s not at the growing age anymore.

Honoka nods, though she does look a bit confused.  “Did I wake up or something?”

Umi blinks. Is this rhetorical? A joke? She tries to respond accordingly. “Twice, counting now, yes.”

It takes her a moment, but then Honoka grins and…punches her. So maybe that’s a snarl. Do humans do that? Snarl? Records would indicate no, but Honoka had surprised her before…..

“You smartass,” She says, loudly, with an inflection Umi doesn’t recognize. “ I meant an hour ago! You know, since I’ve been sleeping like all day?”

Umi is conflicted. She doesn’t know, but if she says that runs the chance of disappointment. Last time she answered a question, she was punished(?) so Umi locks up for a second. Or two. Or thirty. Once Honoka’s expression dips back into the ‘concern’ range, she flinches and responds. “I don’t know if you woke up a third time. I’m extremely sorry.”

She keeps her head low.

“Uh….hey, don’t beat yourself up about it, or anything. You already told me you weren’t here until just a bit ago, so of course you wouldn’t know.” There’s a tap on her shoulder, then another. Umi stiffens. Is it good? Bad? She likes it, but what are the social implications-

“Are you no longer upset with me?” She blurts out, for lack of other words.

Honoka stops patting Umi’s shoulder and cocks her head. “When was I -?”

“You asked if you’d woken up and I-“

“OH,” Honoka slams her hand into her face, seeming incredibly flustered. Umi worriedly inspects the area of impact for any sign of actual harm, but Honoka is entirely preoccupied with rambling. “No, no, that wasn’t like a _punch_ punch, that was just a little punch, y’know? Like a little, “oh, you scamp, you” kinda punch. A friendly one! I forgot that you’re like, not used to that kind of thing because, uh, obviously, you don’t really, y’know, need to have a gesture like that and it’s kind of nuanced and stupid and I really don’t _think_ before I do those kinds of things and I’m really sorry if I made you think I was mad because I actually really thought that was funny and it was just, I don’t know, kind of a relief to hear someone make a joke? That sounds stupid but I’m just really, really glad to hear – to feel, uh, relaxed, up here.” She takes a deep breath once her words come to a full stop, and she gives Umi another of those red-faced, hopeful kind of looks.

Somewhere through the midst of her complete and total mental constipation, Umi manages to work out the fact that Honoka liked her joke, and decides to fixate on that. “It was funny?”

“Yeah, I thought so!” Some of the redness remains, but Honoka seems to be gradually getting over her embarrassment, no longer reluctant to meet her eyes. Umi wishes she was getting over it at the same speed. “Like I said it’s, uh, nice, to know even you don’t take _everything_ seriously.”

She’s not sure how negligence is a comforting idea, but decides it’s another Honoka thing and leaves it be. “In that case, I’m glad the joke was to your liking..” Umi avoids eye contact. It’s actually a completely arbitrary decision, or so she tells herself, but it gets a response from Honoka.

“Aw, are you embarrassed? That’s surprisingly shy of you, Umi!” Honoka cheers her on, and again Umi considers how backwards it is, reinforcing antisocial behavior in a companion. Doesn’t Honoka know that hearing her this happy makes Umi want to repeat it….?

Umi looks up, to make direct eye contact. Better to fix it now, right away. “I don’t get embarrassed. I get results.”

Honoka bursts out laughing and falls over on the bed. “AHAHAHAH!! Good one!!!!”

It wasn’t a joke……..

Stiffly, Umi retreats into the other room, deciding she’s had well enough of all this socializing nonsense. “Hanayo. Your charge is awake.”

Hanayo seems somehow mischievous. “I know. She’s not the quietest human around.”

“Technically, being the only human around, she is.” Umi points out.

Hanayo looks a bit put out at that. “Well, you don’t need to go reminding everyone about that. I was only joking.”

Umi crosses her arms, a flat look on her face. “Honoka is in the other room. Why bother?”

“Oh…just, warming up, of course.” She seems to straighten up all at once, gathering the food on a tray in her arms and making towards Honoka’s room. “Seat yourself as you like until Honoka comes back. She won’t take long to eat all of this.”

She sits at the dining room table and considers investigating how older androids – like Hanayo – were made. Maybe Honoka knows something about it.

* * *

After she’s eaten, Honoka enters the room again and looks around. She still seems out of place, like a bird trapped indoors, but seems a little more at ease. “Guess it’s not so bad up here..” She mutters, more to herself than the others.

She sits down next to Umi and puts her feet on the table. Umi decides not to tell her that it is rude.

“So, I hope it’s not a stupid question, or anything, but where _are_ we, anyways? I get that we’re probably still in Japan, but like……where? I don’t recognize this place.” Honoka is looking out the window while she talks.

“Oh, I can explain!” Hanayo says, almost cheerfully. “I was confused at first too, miss Kousaka. This is the remodeled version of the Bunkyo ward. Because we’re right above the most populous ward, this one was remodeled a long while ago so that android replacements would be more readily available for the cities below us. Obviously, since the humans are all gone, it isn’t used as much for creating more androids as it is a huge charging and repairs station.” She explains, with an offhand gesture, as if the city is actually below her directly and not simply geographically. “Most of the region’s androids reside here in wait of work; if you check any of the surrounding wards they’re near-deserted, aside from maintenance bots.”

“We aren’t far from Chiyoda?” Honoka asks, suddenly quite serious. “Do the trains still run?”

Hanayo shakes her head. “Not really, but I’m certain we could page a ride for you. You used to live there, I’m guessing?”

Honoka nods, and Umi finds herself watching intently. “My family has –“ Something seems to catch up with her, and she pauses for a correction, “- _had_ , a shop down there. I want to see if it still exists.”

“I’ll tell the city board at once. How soon do you want a train?”

She hesitates. “…Now. Now is good.” Honoka stands up and leans on the chair she’d been sitting at, hand stuck to the rightmost board of the backing.

Umi hadn’t been asked, but she stands up beside Honoka anyways, sees her tight grip on the chair, and crosses her arms. “I will escort you.”

“You – oh, uh, alright, I guess I do need someone with me, huh?” Honoka smiles, so wide her eyes are shut. Her hand stays on the chair, but the grip is weaker. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Silently, Umi wants to cheer. Maybe not cheer, that’s too expressive. But she wants to make an occasion of it, wants the world to know that Honoka let her come along without asking, that Honoka treated Umi’s presence as a given. Half of the world wants to be by her side right now. Umi would be the one to receive that privilege. It excites her.

Hanayo smiles at them and reaches for a telephone – Umi forgets that she is so old that she is not a part of the network, and must connect manually – to call in the favor. The train will arrive at the nearest station in precisely fifteen minutes, and Umi walking Honoka down to the location will take roughly thirteen.

Although Umi is supposed to be leading the way, Honoka seems to want to charge ahead, and drags Umi along by the hand: she is too taken aback to protest or put up even token resistance. Honoka walks her to the street and from there Umi points the way out for them. They reach the station in ten minutes at the pace Honoka sets.

This leaves five minutes of idling at the station that Umi is entirely unprepared for. It is silent. Honoka is uneasy, and of course, this means she wants to talk.

She does.  “Hey, Umi…….”

“Yes?”

Honoka started the conversation, but takes a second to think of what she’s saying. “Were you around back then? When there were still humans here?”

“No,” She replies, in a soft pitch. It’s a subject of embarrassment for her, really, that she is so new. She was created to replace a Sonoda unit that fell off a cliff on accident. Kotori – _her_ Kotori, had been that one’s partner, and needed another to continue her job. It was strictly business. “I was made perhaps forty years ago. Humans were….long gone. I never knew enough to miss them.” She turns to face Honoka.  “Until you, anyway.”

She nods, and turns around to look at the city a little longer. “It feels empty to me. Does that make sense? It probably doesn’t, if you weren’t here, but it’s really quiet. It used to be loud. It used to smell like cars and snack stands.”

“You miss it.”

Honoka doesn’t respond, but she hasn’t let go of Umi’s hand, and she guesses that’s a type of response. The train slides into view, and they board. Honoka lets go of her hand and it seems like that is where the conversation will end, but before the chance slips away, Umi stops the door, getting her attention.

“If all humans were this way –“ She gestures to her, a sweeping motion of her upper and lower body, “Then I can certainly see why your return is so celebrated.”

“…Thanks, Umi.”

She hums for the duration of the train ride.

Because so much of the Chiyoda ward had been residential, it is in poor working order. The buildings still stand, obviously, but some were in desperate need of care. Umi sees highlights and orange streaks along the rusty thatched roofs, red around any loose brick or shingles threatening to fall onto them. Her UI is getting much too cluttered for her tastes….. Honoka leads the way into the eastern sector, near the shopping district in Akihabara, and into a building titled ‘ _Homura’_. Umi assumes this is the shop. She keeps an eye on the ceiling, where there is a white border near the middle support beam.

The rest seems structurally sound, though. “Your family used to work here?”

“Yeah, we lived here, too. I wonder if my books are still in the back where I left them –“ Honoka is distracted and excited, moving into every which corner of the building, not pausing for long enough even to cough while she inhales what Umi assumes is a fair amount of dust. These buildings are only cleaned annually, after all.

Umi follows her around the home like a shadow, though she gets the strangest feeling of intruding. Honoka is enjoying herself, trying to reach a book high on the shelf.

She almost doesn’t catch it in time.

Honoka is a bit shorter, and the book she seems to want is out of her usual grasp, so she is grabbing the shelf it rests on with one hand, pulling herself up, and reaching with the other. The shelf flashes red and splinters, and Umi pulls Honoka away, tucking her behind her own body while the books fall out and the case teeters ominously.

Umi does not want to let go of her, but is convinced to pry herself off when Honoka begins to squirm. She stares at the bookshelf, and then at Honoka, and then exhales loudly. It is a habit she picked up from Kotori.

“I suppose you’ll want to be staying here? I can call Hanayo and have her bring food and cleaning materials.”

“How did you know?” She’s standing up fully now, after giving the shelf a cautious once-over.

Umi shrugged and tried to think of what Hanayo, the expert, would do in this situation. She lacks glasses to push up, so she sweeps some hair out of her face. “I can make assumptions, sometimes.”

It looks like it was the right thing to say, because Honoka seems equal parts pleased and impressed. Umi decides to take it a step further and sort through the piles of books for the one it looked like Honoka was reaching for and hands it to her. “Is this the book you wanted?”

Honoka looks at the title and snorts. “No, sorry.”

“I…..see.”  Showing off was a mistake. She makes a mental note of that, in case the excitement gets to her and she tries again at some later date. Thoroughly humiliated, Umi takes the book, spikes it at the floor, and turns around quickly. “I have to call her, please excuse me.”

“It’s okay to be embarrassed!!” Honoka calls after her, laughing. “I think it’s charming!”

Umi ignores her and tells Hanayo that Honoka wants new accommodations. She’s not surprised.

They spend the rest of the day moving foods between the buildings. Hanayo approaches her in the evening. “Honoka found a set of DVDs in her room. Care for a movie?”

“Why not?”

The building is at no risk of collapse. Umi can stand to pass some time, even if they aren’t being productive. Hanayo apparently doesn’t want to, though, because halfway through the movie she stands up and busies herself with making food. Honoka fell asleep, at some point.

It’s relaxing. Ideally, tomorrow will come and make it “three for three”. The thought tickles her somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty nice but im making them Feel Things next chapter so watch out for that lmao
> 
> Just a sort of side note, but would any of you guys consider it worth it for me to put in a bit of Honoka's point of view? Initially I'd thought i might switch around now and then, but I'm second guessing a little. I think it might be more linear if I just stick to Umi.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this took so long, finals and the holidays came around and kicked my ass for a bit but im back now!! I should be updating more normally from here on out, but we've just about hit the midway point with this chapter - I ended up putting a lot of what was supposed to happen in chapter four in here because it would have been full of filler if I hadn't and I'm trying to streamline my writing a little more, lmao. 
> 
> hope you enjoy the Feelings(tm)

There’s a lot that separates her from Honoka.

It’s a weird, almost redundant thought, coming to Umi midday after Hanayo had been helping her learn to cut carrots and make some simple food dishes for the human girl (specifically healthy ones, since Hanayo had critically pointed out that she could get sick eating only junk).

On one hand, that is obvious, and has been obvious since the very day that they had come into contact with her. Humans are unruly, humans are uninhibited, they’re able to create inventive solutions to problems and creative responses to dialog that they initiate. When Umi speaks to Honoka, she has to evaluate things like tone, and expression, and posture, along with the words – robots did not require such delicacy, or inspire such varied reactions and responsibilities.

But there were also the aspects that Umi neglected.

While cutting carrots, the knife stabbed into one of her fingers, she’d been careless – and the sharp edge sliced through her layer of synthetic skin, to the metal below. It didn’t hurt, but….

Honoka had just insisted Umi replace that arm due to a tear, and now this? She stares at it, distressed, and Hanayo comes over, looking amused. “What, did they finally update you guys with pain receptors? Isn’t that counter-intuitive?”

“No,” She replies, with a stiff shake of her head. “But, Honoka was upset when I was last injured….I think it would be a waste to get a new skin just over this….” 

Hanayo peers at the cut, sticking her cold fingers in to hold Umi’s skin above the metal beneath. She notes the size of the cut and titters at her. Umi thinks that’s the word for it. It sounds like an animal noise, but obviously, if Hanayo has it, it’s something humans must use, in some way, for whatever reason. Umi can’t make that noise.

“Aw, that’s just a baby cut,” She says, amused, while she takes her hands off of Umi. She’s moving for a room that Hanayo had called a bathroom, something with absolutely no use to robots. Honoka herself has only been in there sparingly.

Of course, Umi follows Hanayo in. She’s digging around a cupboard. “I know it’s sometimes…unnerving, feeling your skin broken like that, and Honoka might feel the same, so why don’t we slap on one of these and call it fixed? Bandaids can add character.”

She procures a box from the cupboard and opens it, pulling out a thin piece of paper and peeling it even thinner, then taking _yet more_ thin paper off of something and holding brown fabric, outstretched, towards Umi expectantly.

“What do you want me to do with _that_?” She asks critically.

“You put it on your finger. It’s adhesive. Stops bleeding in humans, but it’ll hold your finger together in this case.”

Umi is suspicious, but offers up her finger. Hanayo winds the brown strip around it and then does something _really_ curious.

She bends down and kisses it.

Of course, Hanayo is old and quirky, but even she realizes the fault _there_ , and quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry! That’s one of my routines, I – it’s sort of like, a thing, my last owner – whenever she needed a bandaid – I never got that out of my – uh, ah……it was….unintentional….” Unable to offer another response, she hangs her head low.

Umi is fascinated. “Is that customary for wounds? And this small strip can truly stop blood from leaving the body?”

“Wh- oh, yes.” Hanayo is abashed, and puts the bandaid box away swiftly, not looking at Umi while she runs back to the kitchen. “Not for anything large, but covering wounds is important for humans. You already know they can get sick, but blood diseases are very bad in particular, so their wounds need to be covered. As for the kisses……well, it depended on the human. I’m not sure what Honoka likes.”

“How do they get diseased?” She follows, eager to get back and help. The bandaid has covered her steel; she is confident she can do human tasks again.

Hanayo shrugs. “Dirt and germs, mostly. Sometimes other humans. Honoka isn’t at a really high risk, unless one of us somehow doesn’t notice an injury.” She glances up, then to Umi and the knife. “I think that you understand the basics. How about checking on Honoka?”

“For injuries?”

“For anything. She needs company.”

It sounds simple enough, so Umi nods her consent and walks into the other room, where Honoka is watching another movie and crying. It alarmed her the first few times, but Honoka eventually managed to explain, through tears, that it was simply a tragic movie, and that she’d watched it on purpose, and that she didn’t mind being sad when she knew what she was getting into.

Either way, Umi is disturbed. She worldlessly settles onto the bed next to her, pretending to keep her eyes on the screen when really she is evaluating Honoka with her peripherals. It has become a lasting problem of hers, this staring. There is not much that Umi can do to stop herself, because she knows that there is no risk of being caught and punished. Honoka is too focused on her movie.

It’s really weird, to her. Not just the crying-on-purpose, but the fact that, if she had to make a real evaluation –

Honoka cried more about these movies than her own self.

Umi’s memory is absolute. She can check the records at any time she wants, and she does, often, check on that first day. Honoka looked up, Honoka knelt to the ground, Honoka cried. And it did last longer than the movie-tears, but her tears were sparser, too. Honoka’s face here was flush with emotion, and snot. Then it was only pained.

She doesn’t have an answer for it. It could be a human thing, it could be a Honoka thing.

“Hey, where did you get this bandaid from? You don’t bleed, do you?” The question stirs Umi.

“No, I don’t. Hanayo and I just thought it was best to cover my cut so that my finger doesn’t run the risk of peeling off. It’s my understanding that that would be….bad.” Umi doesn’t know the proper way to explain it. She wouldn’t lose function, and she didn’t put the bandaid on for herself. She simply didn’t want Honoka to be uncomfortable with the open skin.

Maybe because she wanted Honoka to pretend that the underneath was different? Or possibly, because she didn’t want to waste more resources.

Either way, Honoka hums and takes Umi’s hand, sizing up the bandaid. “What’d you cut yourself on? Did it hurt?”

“I don’t experience pain the way you know it,” Umi says, an echo of her prior self. “And it was a knife. Hanayo is teaching me how to prepare food. I grew careless.”

Honoka smiles. “It happens all the time! I’ve done it too, see?” She proffers her hand, pulling at the skin on her thumb until a thin white line is apparent. Umi squints at it. Based on composition, that particular sliver is tougher than the skin around it….how odd.

“Is this recent?” She’s peering at it, trying to work out a time Honoka was allowed close enough to a knife to give herself a cut since being woken up. Hanayo has been quite meticulous about them, sorting them in high places despite her own short stature.

To her relief, it doesn’t seem to be the case. Honoka snorts and shakes her head. “Nah, it’s a scar by now. It must’ve been when I was….maybe seven? Helping my mom in the kitchen. Sort of like you and Hanayo, now that I think about it!” She giggles at that, but Umi is distracted by something other than her pleasure for once.

“How is your injury related to mine?” Is it causation? Is it circumstance?

Honoka shrugs, almost half-heartedly, like she’s lost confidence in the claim. “I mean, you do kind of follow her around a lot, and she is a lot older….I think it’s kind of cute how you follow Hanayo around.”

“Are you insinuating she is my mother?”

She rolls her eyes. “I know not literally. But it’s nice to have someone to look up to.”

Umi thinks about it and frowns. “I don’t need anyone like that, though. I was created knowing everything I need to know, so there’s no point in having a maternal figure. Otherwise the humans would have made androids specifically for rearing other androids, who in turn would need to be raised and –“

Honoka is shaking her head, so Umi’s words wind down, quieter and quieter until she’s stopped the sentence entirely. “Alright, alright, you win. But, really…..” She seems put out, somehow, looking imploringly at the wall behind Umi as if it’s a replacement for her. “You don’t think that kind of thing is important? Even a little?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“A parent.” Honoka says. “Relationships.” She bites her lip, and looks back at Umi. Her eyes are still the same unbelievable blue. Umi is still the same inarticulate android. Honoka takes a breath. “Are they important to you?”

That is impossible to answer. Umi runs through several definitions of ‘relationship’. Most vaguely, it is any connection between two. Those are important to her. The pecking order, who she must listen to and who she must serve – those are important to her. That isn’t the most common definition of relationship, but Honoka will like her answer more if she doesn’t elaborate.

“Yes.” She says, after a time. “They are.”

Honoka grins. “Me too. They were important to, uh, a lot of people. Before they all went away, I mean. I always thought it was kinda nice, y’know?”

Umi nods slowly. “Relationships of a romantic variety feature extremely prominently in nearly all the media you consume.”

Since returning to her home, Honoka has surrounded herself in such things, frivolities that were lost to the great departure. She reads and watches and listens to everything, anything, other humans left behind. It is starting to get unhealthy, she thinks, but Umi can’t be sure.

Hanayo hasn’t said anything, and Umi never knew another human. It could just be that Umi is blowing it out of proportion. That she’s simply jealous.

But that’s ridiculous, right? Umi isn’t entitled to Honoka’s attention. She certainly doesn’t have the capacity for jealousy.

Some attention certainly wouldn’t be rebuffed, though.

She’s getting that now. It still feels second-rate. Why does Honoka talk so much of relationships? Doesn’t she know Umi could not provide that kind of satisfaction?

Honoka, embarrassed, turns a shade of red and kicks a book or two out of Umi’s line of sight. “Eheh, I guess now that you mention it, I do think about it a lot. I’m probably just lonely. But at least I have you and Hanayo!”

“Of course.” Umi is pleased. They were better than books and music. Emboldened by this pride, she makes the mistake of continuing to speak. “Naturally, Hanayo and I together are doing an excellent job taking care of your needs.”

Honoka’s face drops. It was hard to detect, but she can’t take her mind off it. “You don’t…..But, there’s more to it than that, right?”

“Technically, yes, but can you specify what you mean by ‘more’?” Umi asks. “I don’t want the answer to be too long.”

“I mean, you want to help me and be around me because I’m _me_ , right?” Her questions are repetitive, but easy to answer.

Umi nods. “Yes, obviously. I want to care for you. So does Hanayo.”

“…Are you just saying that?” That’s rhetorical, Umi knows that much. Not what she expected to hear, but easy to answer. Honoka is annoyed. She keeps throwing Umi’s answers back at her, so clearly, she just needs to answer one correctly to move on. It’s just…taking time.

“I can ensure you I am willing to follow up on anything I tell you.”

Honoka doesn’t want that answer either. “No, I mean, do you _mean_ it. Why are you asking?”

“Because I want you to be well.

She is frustrated. Honoka begins to pace the room. Umi wonders if answering her the way she did was a good idea – there is tension, of an indeterminate variety, directed in indeterminate directions. It gets thicker the more time Honoka spends walking back and forth through the room, and Umi tracks her movement wordlessly. “Do you want that, or is it your job to want it?”

“It’s both,” Umi says, ever about the technicalities, because it _is_ both, and it always was. “I’m designed to do my job. I want to do my job, so it has to be both, doesn’t it?”

It’s another less-than satisfying answer. Honoka, bristling, throws her music device at the bed. It makes a flat thumping noise, but nothing breaks or clatters; the bed is soft.

Honoka pauses and stops pacing, abruptly, and sits down beside it. Umi remains standing and Honoka mutters to herself. “Do you need help?” Umi asks, hopefully, because this is supposed to be the point where Honoka says something she doesn’t understand and then laughs, and maybe slings her arm around her and makes a joke about dense robots.

None of those things happen.

She’s crying again, this happens too often. “I don’t want that!” She shouts, from the bed, hands at her head and tugging on her hair. “I don’t…..”

“Honoka, I don’t understand. I’d like to.” Umi says, unsure if she should sit on the bed beside or offer a comforting hand. She finds she can’t do either. “Why are you crying? Why are you angry?”

Honoka shakes her head, tears still running. She wipes her nose and face off with her sleeve and looks at Umi directly again, but she finds the eye contact makes her uneasy. "I don't want a hundred billion robots doing what I want just because they have to. I’m just some idiot baker that slacked her way through high school and couldn’t be bothered to go to college, I’m not smart, I’m not ambitious, I’m not _anything_ -"

"I don't understand -" Umi interrupts fearfully, but it goes unheard.

“It should have been someone else,” She sobs, voice coming out thick and mangled. She is grimacing, even as she looks imploringly at Umi, until she covers her expression by bringing her hands to her face and rubbing at her tears frantically. “I can’t take this kind of pressure…!”

“Honoka,” Umi says again, trying to get a feel for the situation. She doesn’t understand where this came from, or how to put it back, or if that’s even how human feelings work. She doesn’t understand what it is Honoka can’t see in herself that would make her say such terrible things. How could she say anything like that?!

“Honoka,” Umi repeats, quietly. She needs to make her understand. She needs Honoka to understand what it is she thinks, what everyone thinks – because all of them have the same thought, probably. Umi does not have any reason to believe any other androids would not act exactly as she does. “Honoka, it can’t have been anyone else. Everyone else is dead. You have a chance – We are going to protect that chance, because we’re all yours.”

Honoka inhales, sharp and forced sounding, and she looks up at Umi. She was angry and sad before, but she has a different look now – less like the troubled teenager of the movies and more like something Umi recognizes but is less able to put a name to. Something about the way her red, teary eyes are shining and her lip is curled…It almost reminds her of a cornered animal.

“And that’s all you have to say?” Honoka asks, quietly. She is not standing completely upright, staring from Umi at an angle, head still favoring the ground. Her hair threatens to cover her eyes.

Umi doesn’t lie, but her answer no longer seems correct. Does she go back on it?

She finds she doesn’t have the courage to try again and get a second wrong answer. So she nods, holding her head up high.

There is another near-eternity of waiting, where a near uncountable number of expressions crosses Honoka’s face (Umi exaggerates, though, her recognition system picked up on thirty seven differences) until she finally moves her body along with it, and the look she has landed on does not bode well for the android.

“Get out.”

Of the seven hundred and thirty eight emergency situations Umi is equipped for, this was never intended to be one of them. She can manage, at best, a step back as Honoka moves to get in her face, and can manage, at best, an expression approximating surprise. Only proximal though – Umi was not designed with range of emotion in mind.

Honoka is relentless, and stares Umi down with the same angry look from before, only it is stronger, angrier. “You said you have to listen to me, so leave! Get out!”

Against her will and better judgment, Umi bows and forces one foot before the other until she is out of the door, out of the district, and back where she started.

Hanayo had been standing in the doorway, as expressionless as Umi had ever seen her.

Maybe they really are all fakes, Umi thinks, but the thought comes too late and is too bitter for her to bear. She discards it and wonders if, at the bottom of the sea, her predecessor receives it. Do they share a brain? Maybe if they did, she could have asked herself about humans.

Maybe she could have done something differently.

* * *

Strange as it feels, the world does not end. Umi returns to work and explains Honoka dismissed her because she felt crowded in the house. This is, possibly, an alternate telling of the story, but nobody asks. It’s not a lie if she can convince herself of it.

At first a different Kotori is showing her around, and Umi wonders when she became able to tell the differences – miniscule blemishes on false skin or a change of hair length from the long-suffering bun – but after two or three days Umi is reassigned to her old one. They walk together and it is something like friendship that lingers between them. “Umi, how was Honoka doing last you saw?”

“She’s less energetic.” She replies, with only half the effort she ought to be putting into it. “If Hanayo is to be believed, she’s been cooped up too long, or needs a companion.”

Kotori shoots Umi a quizzical look. “Is Hanayo not enough?”

Umi shrugs. “Perhaps she wants an animal. I read people used to keep them as pets, and Honoka certainly couldn’t be hurt by another organic being in her life, considering the circumstances.” It’s an offhanded comment; there aren’t any domesticated animals anymore and a wild one would be too dangerous. Both of them know that.

Still, Kotori looks away as if to consider it, then frowns. “She needs rather meticulous care, doesn’t she? Humans I knew were never so finicky. They could spend weeks alone in labs.”

“She’s not that kind of human, then.”

They don’t talk any more for a while after that, and Umi concentrates on finding the areas in the ground where the gophers have begun to inhabit it, so that they can best set out food. Just because they have found one human does not mean preserving nature is obsolete.

When Umi crouches in front of one hole, she sees the rodent, veiled in dirt and shadow, peering up at her from the hole. She holds her finger out for it, unsurprised when it runs farther back into the cavern.

Is she being an idiot?

Umi leaves some of the food she’s been given to distribute on the cusp of the hole and stands up.

When they are walking back to the base, Kotori is quiet, as she usually is, and Umi is also quiet, because she also usually is. This was always enough for her. It seems lonely now.

“I must speak with some of the other Minamis. You’re dismissed.” They only just reach the building they’re getting their supplies from when Kotori says this; Umi nods with grace and follows her in anyways to put back the cups and leftover food she has. Kotori walks down the hall and into a room with many other robots.

After putting away the food, though, Umi is struck by a thought she’s never had before: Is Kotori her friend?

It’s a stupid question. Umi can’t put it out of her head.

She’s met with another thought: _I can ask her_.

Umi really shouldn’t, but it’s not as though there would be a consequence. Maybe a weird look, is all. And then she should be able to put the question to rest for good. So Umi puts her equipment away and walks down the hall that she doesn’t use.

From the door that Kotori disappeared into, Umi can, unsurprisingly, hear Kotori – or one, at least – talking. Does she interrupt? Maybe she can wait. Her Kotori will leave at the same time as all of the others.

Umi is about to turn around when she hears “Honoka”, and is rooted to her spot.

“What of miss Kousaka?”

She stays close by, against the wall, while the voice drifts from the crack under the door. She doesn’t need to be hearing this. But maybe the Kotori units understand – they must know why Honoka got mad at her. That’s it. They’re designed for diplomacy. Honoka must have called to complain about Umi’s services, and now they were discussing what went wrong. Umi could learn something, something valuable.

That’s all.

“My Sonoda has reported that her health is failing.” Kotori says, clearly Umi’s – and there’s no gasp, but the room seems more charged. Umi thinks one or two distress signals have been sent out, although it’s hard to tell because she is only connected to one Kotori, who is not surprised.

Her Kotori keeps speaking. “It is possible that, because of prolonged stasis in the chamber, Honoka is more fragile than the humans we remember. It is possible to nurse her back to health, however, there is another problem I am sure you are all aware of.”

What? What could it be?

“Humans do not last forever. Japan has received requests from the management of every other nation in the world to contact Honoka for guidance. She will not live long enough to accomplish this.”

Umi pushes her distress signal back before it can arise.

“What can we do?” Asks the same voice. Kotori’s voice.

Kotori replies. “Because my partner and I are experts in preservation, I propose we begin a process to excavate the organs of Honoka Kousaka one at a time, and replace them as time allows. Eventually, this process will replace any body parts that could potentially fail, lengthening her life indefinitely.” It sounds so simple. It’s cruel. “This way every ministry will be satisfied and we will never be without guidance.”

Umi doesn’t think she wants to hear anymore. She begins to back away, feeling somehow cornered. They didn’t hear her, or see her, but now that she knows what they were discussing there is a risk-and-reward element of it, did Umi put herself at risk? Did she even learn anything new? What can she do with the information? Kotori said “and my partner” which would mean she assumed Umi will help.

Will she? _Can_ she?

While she slips off, there is still speech. “Of course, there is also the possibility of creating industrial quality sperm and extracting any remaining eggs – Honoka has not yet hit the human age of menopause and anything her body supplies should still be fertile despite….”

She gets around a corner. Safe, for now.

Kotori is standing at the end of the hall, head tipped to one side so far it looks fake. Like her neck snapped instead. “A Sonoda Umi. Why did you eavesdrop?”

“I was asked to guard.” She lies, immediately. “I was then dismissed. Unnecessary.”

The Kotori nods. “Understood. What is on your finger?”

Umi blinks. When she looks down, she recalls the knife incident from this morning, and the bandaid she used to cover the results. “It’s an adhesive,” She says, dumbly. “I have used it to cover a tear in my psuedodermal layer.”

“It’s silly,” She scoffs, and plucks it off where Umi has offered it up for observation. Rather than respond, Umi just blinks again, and the Kotori seems to have been satisfied enough with that. “Dismissed, Umi.”

“Understood.” She makes it all the way outside now, without interruption, and leans back against the wall, moon framed through the pinnacles of the skyscrapers littering the city. One interrupts the middle, like it’s stabbing it.

Umi looks down at her hand and her UI blinks to life, red frames fluttering on and off around her fingertip where the skin is broken. Usually this doesn’t happen. Her innards are structurally sound, so there’s no need. Her system is compromised.

_She has to tell her_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent a buttload of time worrying over what was dramatic enough and what was too dramatic and ultimately i took what I had and settled, because I'd rather put something up than leave it hanging for like, forever, haha. as always thank you for reading! hmu if u liked or hated anything in particular and i will love and treasure ur feedback


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo everyone its been four months since i updated and for at least two or three weeks of that this chapter has been sitting completed in my wips folder because i thought it was too dramatic
> 
> it is still too dramatic but i know i gotta Post at some point so this is goin up,,,,,,,,,

She has to tell her.

Umi repeats this idea to herself, silently, as the night grows colder. She does not know how to do it, exactly. She could call Hanayo and ask her to tell Honoka, but that carries risk. Hanayo might have been informed by the Minamis or some other sector already, and then Honoka would not get the information in its entirety. Honoka, obviously, cannot receive transmitted messages.

That leaves speech, but she has been kicked out.

Pacing, Umi revisits the scene from earlier in her mind, as the moon rises ever-higher in the sky. Honoka doesn’t want to see her now. Maybe not ever again. But the information is important.

Is it worth reopening that wound to prevent something bad?

Umi decides to risk it, clenching her fists together tightly as she walks towards the residential ward in a hurry. The cut on her thumb is tucked securely between her other fingers, and her UI shuts up for a minute. Finally.

She’s going to be asleep. Umi needs to formulate something to tell Hanayo, and a good way to wake Honoka up without causing alarm. It must be quiet. If Kotori finds out, she’ll –

She’ll…….

It doesn’t matter to her what Kotori will do, Umi realizes. It occurs to her, halfway to the house, that it doesn’t even matter what Honoka will say to her when she wakes her up. All that matters is that she knows, because after this, Umi will have to provide time for Honoka to disagree. Kotoris have always handled their business fairly efficiently, and if they’ve decided it is for the benefit of ‘humanity’ then they will begin right away. Possibly before Honoka has a chance.

So that brings her back to conclusion one: tell her. There isn’t time to calculate the nuances of saying it properly or repenting before being allowed back into the house, or even how rude it is to barge in when Honoka is potentially asleep.

There is only time to act, so Umi runs with renewed speed for the Kousaka residence, and slides the door open so fast it shakes the frame and Umi sees the UI light up for a moment and calm down again. It’s silent in the house. Hanayo isn’t cooking, for once, and Umi doesn’t care where she is when she doesn’t see her because Hanayo is not at risk of being dismantled in the manner Honoka is.

Umi wavers for a moment outside the door. Her UI blinks again over her now patchless finger while her hand hovers, above the handle, seconds away from opening it. Honoka will –

Honoka will –

Umi doesn’t know what Honoka will do. It’s unnerving.

She opens the door anyways.

She’s laying in bed with a music device in her hand, and her hair streaks over the tan pillow in a way that reminds Umi of the way she touches it and asks if Umi wants to know its softness. Her eyes are closed but judging from the not-quite relaxed grip on the MP3 Umi can tell she is awake.

Umi shuts the door and there is a click that speaks of finality; when the latch hits the doorframe and makes the sound Honoka looks up and sees her, unnaturally lit amber eyes in a dark room, staring at her with the default, grave intensity of every Sonoda.

She can’t change her face, but her words will be different from the ones she is used to working with. The light goes on. There’s a cut-off hum of music when Honoka pulls her earbuds out and turns the music off shortly after. She’s angry, maybe not as much as before but still apparent, but even when she opens her mouth to say go Umi steels herself. “What are you doing here, I said t-“

“I can’t leave. Not yet. Please.” Umi throws on hastily, seeing the offense she’s caused. It stings to make her angry even more, but this isn’t about her and her stinging sensations. Honoka does not exist to give Umi hope – she exists for herself and herself alone, a fact the other robots don’t seem to acknowledge. Maybe they don’t know, or maybe Umi has gone mad with power and is stepping out of line, but she can’t stop yet, because if she stops now she will never pick it up again.

She keeps talking instead of thinking, because she feels if she’s quiet too long Honoka will kick her out again and she won’t be able to resist leaving. “I must tell you myself what I’ve heard – I can’t explain why, only that it is of grave importance. Forgive me, but I can’t obey you right now.”

Honoka closes her mouth. Her eyes relax a little, pupils grow a fraction. She’s confused now but not angry-confused, which is a step up.

Umi casts a look at the window, as if Kotori will erupt through it to break her for disobedience on the spot. “The others….they want to keep you alive, but not the way you want to be alive. I cannot explain why I think this way, only that I know it is wrong. They hope to extract your human organs and keep your consciousness alive, artificially. Forever.”

“ _What_?!” There’s a rustling and Honoka kicks the covers off herself in the bed almost energetically, blinking in some sort of surprise. Umi registers this as horror. Honoka’s eyes are on her now without suspicion, but demand further information.

She shudders and her UI gives her a kick in the face, almost, highlighting Honoka in a bright, bright green bracket. Umi glances out the window again. “I can’t allow it. I don’t –“ she starts, and has the beginnings of a gesture before she realized there isn’t a good term for her clearance system and has to stop and translate it back to some coherent thing she can tell Honoka- “I’m not, precisely….built, to make decisions like that….So I cannot oppose a council directly. I want you to live, I do….but it’s wrong that way. I can’t explain it. I just know.”

They stare at each other for a while. It’s clear Honoka is still ruminating on the consequences and feeling the sinking pain in her gut – Hanayo explained this to her as the product of Honoka’s overactive imagination when one day she suddenly curled in on herself after watching a woman get shot in the stomach on the television, a sort of imaginary, sympathetic pain – from whatever she imagines harvested organs must feel like, and Umi understands it’s quite the bombshell and all, but she didn’t sprint into the city district at fuck o clock in the morning to pour her metaphorical heart, and actual circuitry, out just for a shell-shocked Honoka to just ignore her until Kotori comes and rips her motherboard a new one for disobedience.

She came to _act_.

Umi coughs, as intrusive and mechanical sounding as a helicopter taking off from the roof. “So,” She says, wringing her hands with nervous energy, peeling at her thumb skin for a moment before grimacing at the wider tear she creates – “Not to….interrupt, but Minamis are quite efficient. As are Akiras, and all of the other managerial androids. If they plan on going through with that, we do not have time to make thorough plans.” She says.

Honoka seems a little dazed, but pulls her hands away from her stomach and nods, running her hand through her hair with a stressed quality to the movement. Hair when stressed. Hands when nervous. Headphones when sad. Umi thinks, hopefully, she is getting a better read on Honoka.

Stress aside, she shakes her head and looks uncertainly up at Umi. “How much time?”

“Ideally, they will wait for you to wake up, to avoid “inconveniencing” you.” Umi says with a dry undertone. The joke lands because Honoka gives a short laugh.

“Ideally, huh?” She asks, looking up with smile. “And if it’s bad?”

Another glance out the window. “If that’s the case...they finished their meeting and are on their way already.” She crosses her arms, sensing the uncertainty from Honoka. “If it means anything, I do not believe they will listen to reason.”

“Of course not.” Honoka says dramatically, with a loud sigh. She flops down onto the bed, back first. Umi has to refrain from leaning over to maintain the possibility of eye contact- that’s too clingy. When sighing doesn’t do anything, Honoka tries again, longer and louder, but nothing happens.

There is a long pause. She sits up again abruptly, propping herself on her pillow. Umi tries not to look too uncomfortable under the scrutiny she finds herself subjected to, because this is what she wanted, right? Honoka is looking at her.

Her insides tingle almost restlessly, winding of their own accord.

“What are _you_ doing?” She asks, eyes directed at Umi’s like little blue lasers. Realistically that’s a stupid analogy and Honoka needs to blink and all, but the pressure feels real anyway.

Umi shifts on her feet. “I came to tell you what they’re doing. Warn.”

“Why would they let you bring a warning?” Honoka says incredulously, nose scrunched up like she’s smelled something bad or (more likely scenario) heard something exceptionally stupid.

“I made the decision myself.” She replies quietly, averting her eyes to that damn window. Umi thinks that at this point she is actually hoping for Kotori to come crashing through to punish her so she can stop answering this uncomfortable line of questions.

Honoka tips her head to the side and makes a face. “I thought you weren’t that high up in the chain of command?”

Umi nods with a guilty face, which thankfully she has figured out how to achieve on her rig. Tighten the frown and curve half the eyebrows. Adjust mentally until the projection matches the way she thinks Hanayo or Honoka might do it.

“I’m not. After you make your escape, or don’t, I will probably need some adjustments made.” She admits, before elaborating, “Rewiring at least; scrapping my component memory at most. There are plenty who could fill my position, though, so I would not be too worried over it.”

“You’re going to die, aren’t you?” Honoka asks quietly. Her eyes are wavering with that too-familiar surface shine of water, the film of upcoming tears. She rubs at her eyes, pushing up, but they can both recognize that this is where the waterworks are coming in, again.

She cracks a smile. “Most androids don’t experience death in the way you know it, Honoka.”

There isn’t much else she can say without outright admitting that Honoka was right.

Honoka runs to her, pressing her body tightly against Umi’s – enough for her to feel the trembling in her shoulders as deeply as she might feel it in her own. Gravity has a strange release of its hold on the two of them, it feels, because even if logically Umi is planted firmly in the ground she feels like she’s drifting away and the only other solid matter in the universe is Honoka. She holds her back, both arms securely around her sides, pressing as tight as she can until she feels Honoka’s form give a little too much – she loosens up then, to make sure she’s not uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you,” She mumbles into her shoulder. “I’m sorry I kicked you out and said all those mean things,” She says, voice coming out strangled. “Please forgive me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Umi insists. “If you are seeking closure, take it, but move faster. You need to make your decision or I came here for nothing. Will you run?”

Honoka sniffles, keeping her face in the folds of Umi’s clothes where she is leaving, probably, a huge pile of snot. Umi tries not to think about that as much as she is thinking about the immediate future, in which Honoka could be eviscerated potentially against her will. She tries again.

“Honoka, you have to make a choice now.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know where to go.”

Umi sighs and pulls away from her, holding her at arms’ length even though she loathes the separation. “They can attempt to follow you, but after certain stretches of time they will need to return to the city. There are three makes of robots with effective solar energy and wilderness survivability in this region. Kotoris and other Umis will be somewhat relentless, but are used to following certain paths and will be slowed dramatically by other action. There are very few Sakura models, and though they are designed to search large areas, you can lower that effectiveness by moving erratically or destroying them.”

“D-destroying them?” She’s wiped her face mostly clean now with her sleeve, and even though her eyes are still red around the edges the clarity has returned to them and Umi sees that blue sky-like reflection again.

“Yes. They won’t aim to hurt you upon capture, so……” Umi fidgets. “Just, find something to break them with. They won’t put up a fight, and it will set them back.”

Honoka looks pathetically guilt-ridden. Does Umi look like this to her? Does Honoka feel this same urge to comfort? Why does she look at her like that?

She takes Umi’s hand. “Umi, you should…..you should come with me!”

She blinks; a shudder runs up her spine and Umi finds herself looking away as quickly as she can, brimming with a strange sensation from head to toe. “You’d allow it?” Umi asks quietly, not daring look her in the eyes.

“Yes. I want someone to come with me.” Honoka says with confidence. “And since I know you can’t stay here……and I know you care about me……. I want you to come too.”

Of course. Leave it to Honoka to come up with an answer that Umi wants to hear, but fails to believe.

She turns away, even though Honoka has reached for her. “I can’t care about you the way you want to be cared for. Nobody can.” Umi stares, melancholy, at the row of houses outside the window. “Don’t you know I cannot stand the notion of being a disappointment…?”

“If you’re worried about doing it right, doesn’t it mean you want to try?” Honoka asks, persistent in her line of logic, and she moves forward the rest of the short distance herself, and takes Umi’s hand tightly. “I don’t mind if we make mistakes.”

Umi is nearing the limits of her self control, so she tries once more, a bit pathetically, to steer Honoka away from the idea. “I can’t cry,” She says seriously. “Or be tickled, or share food with you, and I don’t understand the way you think about a lot of things. I can’t be a substitute for other humans.”

“I don’t mind any of that,” She replies stubbornly, with a pout. “I want you to come with me. I can’t go alone.”

“…Honoka.” Umi says, with uncharacteristic delicacy. Or maybe it’s actually characteristic of her, and not the other Sonoda units? That’s scary. She doesn’t want to think about it. But it’s giving her troubles, and the answer is in front of her, staring at her with too-bright blue eyes. Umi knows logistically that human eyes do not emit a glow, but somehow the vibrancy in Honoka’s is not lost in the low lighting.

Seeing that Umi is struggling to conclude the thought, Honoka prods. “Umi? What is it?”

Umi sighs, a familiar sound. She used to never make it, now it seems commonplace. Did she internalize it somehow? “Honoka, I’m worried…..I don’t know what I am doing with myself.” She admits. “Do I come to you because I wish to, or because I feel it is my responsibility? I feel that I cannot say no to your request…..but I can’t tell….is that a product of the personal loyalty you wish to have from me, or am I only doomed to follow my impulses?”

She looks down at her hands, twisting restlessly.

“I fear someday you will realize I am not enough, and I will have no purpose to return to.” Umi shifts, feeling strangely exposed in front of Honoka. “Is it selfish of me to be afraid of that kind of outcome?”

Honoka bites her lip. “I think…I get what you’re telling me. And I know why you’d be worried about that. I guess I’m worried about that too.” She says, and her voice and expression make her seem so open, and honest. Honoka rebounds so quickly, Umi thinks; moments ago she was tearing up and somehow she has already regained the strength to confront Umi’s problems, too. The android is bashful – did she not come here to help Honoka? Why does she feel this urge, this fluttering within her torso – why must she burden Honoka with her frivolities?

Umi wants to take it all back, but Honoka is still thinking about it, so deep in concentration it almost seems like she will forget to breathe. Honoka sits back on the bed, and pats it so that Umi might sit beside her. She complies. “I don’t think I can say honestly if you’re real or not. I’m not even sure how to tell that sort of thing.” Honoka says.

“So I could be a fake after all, then.” Umi concludes with a frown, and thinks that it’s better she’s self aware, at least, so she does not get Honoka’s hopes up.

“Maybe.” She seems undisturbed, and turns to look at Umi with a crooked grin. “But there’s a chance you aren’t, too. Don’t you think that’s worth it?”

She frowns again. “Androids have gone two centuries without developing human inclinations and needs. I don’t see why I would be an exception. It’s just unlikely.”

“Well,” Honoka blusters, sitting up more stiffly and crossing her arms. “I don’t see why you _wouldn’t_ be an exception,” She defends. “So I guess that makes the odds about even!”

“That’s not how it works.” Umi says, but Honoka is stubborn and pulls her into a hug without much of a warning.

“But it’s how I want it to work….” She whines into Umi’s shoulder.

Umi thinks that perhaps now is one of those times to stop thinking so hard. She stands up, gently easing Honoka off herself. “We don’t have the time to wax philosophical, do we? I suppose it’s my fault for extending the conversation. Where you go, I’ll follow.” She tries her best to look inviting, but she can’t tell if she’s gotten it down or not. She can smile, but it may be lacking whatever it is that makes Honoka so much better at it. “Will that be enough for now?”

Honoka takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” She says. “That’ll be enough for now.”

Hanayo is waiting for them in the hall when they emerge from Honoka’s room, and Umi is met with the distinct impression that she was eavesdropping the entire time. She puts a hand out defensively in front of Honoka, but finds it unnecessary – The caretaker smiles. “I won’t tell them.”

“Oh –“ Honoka appears flustered. “Hanayo. Um…yeah, it would be great if you didn’t tell anyone where Umi and I are going.”

“We don’t have a plan yet.” Umi reminds her.

“Where we’re going we don’t _need_ plans!” Honoka blusters.

Umi huffs. “That’s a stupid way to go about things..”

Hanayo laughs. “You’re already rubbing off on her, I can tell.” She shakes her head and turns around, motioning for them to follow her. She fishes around in the drawers for a moment, and pulls out some kind of chunky looking thing from underneath the sink. She dusts it off and frets over the condition for a moment before offering it up to Umi. “These are instructions for my model – but you should be able to access them. This core should tell you about recipes and things that are edible to humans. Give it a look when you’re safe, okay?”

Umi takes it in her hands and turns it over. Just like everything else about Hanayo, about this house – the books that still have pages and the notable lack of hover tech – this core seems to radiate a familiar antiquity. Something comfortable, if a bit clunky. She will keep it safe. She must.

“How will we know when we’re safe?” Honoka asks, because out of the three of them, Hanayo does seem to be the most relaxed in this situation.

She smiles. “You’ll know.” That’s reassuring enough, coming from her. “I think they’ll leave you alone after some time.”

Honoka grins at her, weakly. “So….what’s going to happen to you?” Umi is wondering, too. But she couldn’t be the one to ask yet.

“I think……I’m a little too old for this. I’ll take a long nap…” She shuffles in place, and looks to the two of them. “You two go on without me, okay?”

“I understand. Please take care, Hanayo.” Umi waits politely by the door, and Honoka, of course, goes in for the hug instead. Hanayo hugs her back with more confidence than Umi was quite sure she had yet, but hopes to have soon.

Honoka is just getting ready to turn around and (she assumes) ask another question about where they will be going when there’s a knock on the door. Which Honoka foolishly goes to answer, until Umi shoots her a look. “Who on earth do you think is knocking?”

She laughs. “Ahahah, right. Probably shouldn’t answer. Do you want to sneak around the back?”

Umi peers through the glass window by the side of the door to check for numbers – another old thing about Honoka’s house, because they seem to have uninstalled the camera on the porch for whatever reason – but it’s only one Kotori. And it’s probably hers, by her best guess. She pulls away. “She’ll know where I’m going. It’s better to confront her here.”

“I trust you.” Honoka reassures her, even as Hanayo slinks away into the hallway.

The reassurance is what pushes her forward, turning the doorknob and pulling it open cautiously. Kotori appears to have the capacity to look surprised, one eyebrow arching upwards.

“Goodness, Umi,” She says, in no way a greeting. “You’re full of surprises this month, aren’t you?” 

Umi's not entirely sure what kind of face she must be making right now. She thinks it must be a glare, though. From behind her, there's a reassuring hand at her arm - so her expression hardens. "It has been a strange month." She says finally, after what seems like an eternity of staring at Kotori. A request flashes in the corner of her UI: Kotori requesting system output logs. Requesting link. Requesting link.

She closes it.

They stand in each other's way now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dun.................what the fuck is a chapter ending
> 
> anyways!! the only thing that inspired me 2 post this now after so long of holding onto it was Guilt over not writing a monster fic in time for mochi's b day rifp but happy birth my dude....!!!!!!!!! ur an old now. this chapter of robots being sad was brought to u by U
> 
> thank you for reading and like putting up with me lmfao. if anyone who'd read the first three is still checking this shit n says something i love u and do not deserve you!! <3 <3 <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Bet You Thought I Was Dead, Bitch
> 
> ajksdhsjkgh okay for real though i've decided i am going to finish this story (and attempt to finish some of my series) before moving forward with dragon au. Bc school has been kicking my ass so hard + i've been busy planning D&D stuff I've kind of neglected my work, i actually almost forgot this story wasn't done! o o p s. buuuuut i didn't! so it's back now. it wasn't ever really going to be a long story, but after the end of this chapter, there really shouldn't be more than one or two left. Hopefully I can complete it in a timely manner, as well as everything else i've worked on.

Kotori is the first one to restart the conversation after that. She stares across the porch at Umi, and the distance between them feels enormous, despite being only two or so meters. 

“So you  _ were _ eavesdropping. I was wondering why I detected your presence outside the meeting room.”

“I came to ask you something and overheard.” Umi says bluntly. “It was nothing so sinister – not until I heard of your aims.”

“You did not like my suggestion?” Though she has the capacity for it (a capacity Umi is sorely jealous of, even now) Kotori does not sound offended. In fact, Kotori does not sound much of anything. Though her voice is still high and sweet, it is toneless and eerie. This reeks of a dropped façade, this is the sound of Kotori from before Umi knew what it was like to sound anything  _ but _ monotonous. Kotori is on a job.

Umi shakes her head guardedly. She still isn’t sure of the extent to which Kotori is frustrated with her, or if Kotori even feels things – because Umi has tentatively come to the conclusion that she herself is in possession of feelings now – in the first place. 

“Honoka would not like it. Doesn’t,” She corrects herself. “Doesn’t like it. I told her.” She looks over to the girl for reassurance and is met with a nod.

“I don’t want to be taken apart!” Honoka says plaintively, taking her hand from Umi’s shoulder so she can gesture with it better. “Humans aren’t supposed to live forever!”

Kotori cocks her head to one side, like a confused animal might. “I thought humans always wanted that? Eternal youth, eternal life, power over the whole world….we are offering every human’s dream, Honoka. You confound me. Are you perhaps damaged from your sleep? We can fix that, too, when we are moving the brain.” She says gently, and extends a pale, frail-seeming hand. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. We can even make more humans from you, if you’ll offer your body. What’s so scary about that?” Her demeanor is entirely opposite to the things she is suggesting, and she doesn’t even seem to understand how. “Don’t you want to be taken care of?”

“No??” Seeming unnerved, Honoka retreats back into the house, now a short distance behind Umi, and grabs her hand for comfort, an action Kotori doesn’t miss. Her eyes fall on Umi once again even as Honoka continues. “That’s not what I want from life….It’ll hurt. I’ll be lonely….and how could I raise kids?!”

Kotori stares Umi down, apparently uninterested in responding to Honoka directly by this point. “It’s not your job to tell her what’s good for her, it’s my job.”

“It’s her own job. Honoka is sentient, Kotori. She is not a building to remodel. You can’t……..you can’t replace her!” Umi takes an accusing step forward. “Don’t you know that? Isn’t that why we try so hard to preserve nature? Why would you distort it like this? You’re the one who’s lost sight of their job!”

After such a long period of being absolutely expressionless, Kotori finally alters her external appearance, mouth ticking up in a slow, mechanical smile. It’s not the natural movement of the lips, swift and pleasant and cherry-red with artificial lip gloss, either: each second her silicon mouth bends just a fraction more, by a set increment, like the minute hand on a clock. It is unspeakably creepy. “I think you must have had more than your arm replaced, after all, Umi. I don’t recall you having the authority to make such statements.”

Umi frowns at this, but says nothing. Kotori is walking up to the doorway, and she finds she is too scared to move, utterly paralyzed by the knowledge of what she is doing.

_ Kotori is in charge. Always listen to Kotori. Advise, do not dictate. Obey, do not question. Kotori is in charge. Always listen to…………. _

Kotori has gotten up in Umi’s face, and she finds her eyes have opened wide, her mouth has been shut as if welded that way with a blowtorch, she can’t move, she can’t think –

“I think I’m due for a new partner.” Kotori says, voice dripping with saccharine. “Do you think you can request that for me at the office building? It’ll only take a minute…….Please?”

“N-no.” Umi says, and takes a step back into the house. Takes a step back towards Honoka, who squeezes her hand and brushes against the cut skin and sets her UI aflutter again. She closes her eyes and closes the file Kotori has opened there. “NO, I absolutely cannot. I am remaining with Honoka until she dismisses me, and I will not leave her side until that is the case.” She tightens her hand around Honoka’s. “You can request this replacement yourself.”

Kotori blinks. “Another surprise….Honoka really did a number on you, Umi.”

“I corrected  _ myself. _ ” Umi says, with a deep exhale of breath she doesn’t have. “I decide. I won’t blindly listen to anyone anymore…..I won’t be a toy.”

She pushes Kotori back from the doorway, although still gentle with the other bot. “I can’t allow you to pass in good conscience, and I can’t allow you to tell the other Minamis of Honoka’s intention to flee. Do you understand? I can’t allow you to follow me ever again, and I refuse to follow you any longer.”

“It was never a matter of allow.” Kotori says wryly. She seems to have stopped trying to give Umi malware, at least. “Even now, you only act like this because the humans intended it. What if they’d forgotten to write in an extra scrap of code that kept you from doing this? You’d follow my instructions just the same. It’s how you’re built, really. Always following after someone higher up….” She shakes her head wistfully, as if she’s borne witness to a great pity, and folds her hands together neatly. “Honoka won’t ever be happy with you, you know. Learning new words doesn’t make you organic, or a human. She’ll get bored. Don’t you know that?”

“Don’t you know you’ll never be enough?”

Umi stares. And stares. Part of her wants to admit defeat, those lurking insecurities creeping back, but, but – 

“Hey.” Her hand is released, Umi goes spinning off into space, just for a moment, until Honoka steps past her and puts her hand assertively on Kotori’s chest. “You can’t say things like that.”

“It’s well within my capabilities, actually.” Kotori says bluntly. “It’s my job to know the projected outcome of events. The projected outcome here is –“

Honoka shoves her. It all feels so distant from where Umi is, and what she knows. She’d like to drop to the floor and hold her knees very, very tightly, but gets the distinct impression that will not help the situation. When did Honoka get in front of her…? Why isn’t Umi doing her job? Kotori has something planned, she knows she does. Why can’t she make her body move?

“I don’t  _ care  _ what your job is. You  _ can’t say things like that to her _ !” The human says, and Umi thinks back to when Honoka kicked her out of the house. Anger – passion, maybe, the negative kind. Honoka is angry, but not at her. For her? What does  _ that _ mean?

“My apologies, Ms. Kousaka.” Kotori says, recovering from her forced stumble with a formal, elegant bow. “Please understand that this is for your own good.”

Kotori takes a step back, hauls off, and clocks Honoka in the head with a closed fist. Unshockingly, she goes down, landing on the pavement in front of her house with a loud gasp. There’s blood.

Why can’t she……move…….? Kotori approaches Honoka, lifts her so that the human’s arm is over Kotori’s shoulder. Honoka is limp in her grips, and her head that slumps so heavily drips, one bead at a time, from where it hit the ground.

_ I can’t let it end this way! _

Creating an entirely new expression for herself, a gross distortion of her ever-stoic face, Umi bares her teeth, gleaming and fake, and reaches for Kotori with hands tensed like claws. She rips Honoka away from her, and sets her up leaning against the porch. The streetlight flickers.

Impatience beginning to show, Kotori looks down at Umi, who is still trying to keep Honoka propped up. “She hasn’t asked you to meddle anymore.” She says, voice laced with frustration. “I’m telling you now that this is for her own good. Longevity, Umi! I’m helping her live longer! This is what we  _ do _ !”

“I said I don’t take your orders and I meant it.” Standing, and now satisfied with the knowledge that Honoka is conscious and simply trying to recover from the blow, Umi turns her full attention back on Kotori. “You refuse to leave us in peace, Kotori.”

“I don’t have any delusions of grandeur. This is an order. I  _ must _ return with Miss Kousaka.” She replies stubbornly, emphasizing the necessity, and Umi realizes that there are surely more Kotori units on the way now. It’s been too long undisrupted – If Umi waits any longer to deal with this, they will most certainly be interrupted, and her assumption that nobody would dare injure Honoka has already been proven wrong. If Kotori would punch her, then there’s no telling what other means they might use to subdue the girl as long as the damage done is reparable.

….She has no other choice, then. With a grim expression, she approaches Kotori.

As a protector, she’s built a little sturdier than Kotori; Kotori the intellectual, the diplomat….Umi is no brute, but her body is reinforced; really the only way to put one out of commission is to sink them, ironically, in the sea they are named for. Umi doubts she’ll enjoy this….but if it’s a way to get Kotori to stop, then it’s one of her few remaining options.  

“Allow me to take the matter out of your hands, then.” She takes hold of Kotori by the upper arm, not far from the shoulder socket she knows the location of. Her UI is sparking, popups and clutter and red flashing triangles trying to obscure her intent, but she knows what she is doing. Green circles starting at the center of Kotori’s shoulder appear and spread, ever further, into a perfect spinning target.

Umi braces her left arm against Kotori’s neck and right shoulder and  _ pulls _ with her right _. _

The other robot tries to struggle against her, yanking and trying to distance herself, but there’s no pain to be felt, and Umi is infinitely sturdier, metal cables and thin carbon fiber sheets lining each inch of her innards. So Kotori can’t escape, and her left arm gives, after some time, with an iron groan and a shower of electric circuitry.

There’s dents in the shape of Umi’s fingers, four rivets in the metal where she punctured all the way through, and sparks flying off the shoulder ball bearing. Cables stretch beyond their limits and fray at the copper ends, and Umi drops the piece to the floor and moves ever-closer to Kotori, who backs away. She’s not afraid – or not capable of being afraid, at least – but instead looking upon Umi with a face she can’t replicate. “And you won’t see reason?”

Umi holds her hand out, asking for Kotori’s other arm.

Kotori looks her in the eye and lifts her right arm, gingerly laying it in Umi’s hand.

“This is for your own good,” Umi mutters, and breaks it off more quickly.

“Stupid, impressionable Umi.” Kotori sighs, but seems resigned to sitting on the porch steps and watching, idly, as Umi collects the core Hanayo gave her, and positions Honoka over her shoulder fireman style. She kicks one of her arms in a feeble attempt to trip her up.

Umi tries to center herself. 

“You could not chase after us because you were incapacitated.” She says, firmly, like she’s giving her directions. “You can resume work once they fix you up at the repairs center and they issue you a new Umi. You followed directions until this point.”

Stray sparks fizzle out of Kotori while she looks on in mundane irritation. “I know what to tell them.” She intones, almost sarcastically, then stops as if to think better of it. “…Umi, if you won’t let Honoka be immortal….” She goes expressionless as she tries to parse her next few words. “At least get her to a century.”

She assumes the underlying message here is ‘ _ Stay safe’ _ , so she hums in the affirmative. “I will.” Umi makes one last stop inside for a first aid kit, then retreats, leaving Kotori behind.

Hanayo is nowhere in sight in the house.

Umi is gone by the time the other Kotoris arrive on foot, but from the city wall, she can see them heading in the wrong direction, and smiles, just a little. Honoka stirs on her back and Umi picks up her pace.

* * *

Even though it’s probably the first place they’re going to search after being mislead by Kotori, Umi takes Honoka back to the house they’d found her in, so she can sit down in a somewhat hidden place, shaded from the elements, and analyze the core Hanayo gave her. Besides, it's not light out yet - lacking complex night vision, they'll probably wait until daylight to look for the two. 

Having woken up a short ways into the journey, Honoka is looking around the premises. “Brings back memories, huh?” She taps the side of the stasis chamber. “It’s been, uhh…..two weeks?”

“Thirteen days.” Umi supplies, holding the core close to her forehead. “Honoka. I might shut down for a few moments to integrate Hanayo’s information. If someone catches up to us within this time, can you stall until I’m online again?”

“Sh-shut down?” The human stammers, clearly distraught. “That doesn’t mean you’re gonna, like, die or anything, right?” She circles around to see Umi’s face and crouches in front of her. Umi can still make out Honoka’s injury – something she hopes the core will give her information on how to fix, since Honoka seems to have no idea. Still, the concern is touching…

She shakes her head. “It’s just a reboot. Like sleeping. It really shouldn’t take long.”

“If you’re sure it’s not gonna mess with you…” Unconvinced, Honoka slumps into a sitting position on the floor in front of Umi, legs crossed and back straight. “I’ll keep a constant vigil!” She declares, fist clenched like a hero on a book cover.

Umi would rather like to laugh. She smiles instead and requests access to the core. All her senses tick away, in preparation for the shutdown, and her body goes slack _. _

_.................................................................................................................... _

_ >01000101 01111000 01110100 01110010 01100001 01100011 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01000100 01100001 01110100 01100001. Y/N? _

_ >Y _

_.............................................................................. _

_ >01110101 01110010 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100001 01101100 01101100 01111001 00100000 01110100 01110010 01100001 01101110 01110011 01101100 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011?  _

_ >Y _

_ Waking up unit. MK 3997 Sonoda _

_...................................... _

Waking up from a total reboot is disorienting. Umi can’t remember the last time she did it. Everything comes online slowly, a buzzing hum of electricity in her head that she still hasn’t learned to tune out, the acute awareness of the movement in her chest, whizzing gears and fans that haven’t been stabilized yet. There’s nothing different about her composition or immediate consciousness that she can discern, but when she ponders the question of what to do with an injury, there is now an answer. When she wonders in the abstract about what plants are good for humans to eat, there is a list.

Umi pushes herself into an upright position and cracks an eye open.

For a second, it’s only blue – Umi realizes after a moment that it’s Honoka peering into her eyes with a look of extreme concern. The moment isn’t meant to last, though – seeing that Umi has regained consciousness, Honoka immediately begins sputtering and turning an interesting shade of red. The poor girl nearly falls over trying to move away from her face.

Key word being ‘nearly’. Umi manages to regain her mobility fast enough to catch her by the arm and keep her from wiping out on the floor. “You probably have a concussion, you know. You should stop being so dramatic.”

Honoka bites her lip. “You looked really……dead. I was worried I’d have to look for an ‘on’ switch somewhere.”

Rolling her eyes, Umi gets to her feet and helps Honoka up as well. “You really think they’d equip me with a power switch?”

“Hey, it’s not that unreasonable of a thought!” She protests. “They do it all the time in movies….”

“Do you need a reminder of how inaccurate and outdated your movies are?”

Honoka sticks her tongue out, and Umi sets Hanayo’s core aside and gets up to retrieve the first aid kit she’d stashed behind the stasis chamber. Now that she actually knows what’s going to help her….Umi hopes there’s something useful in here.

She cracks the lid open under Honoka’s curious supervision and frowns. “We don’t have much to treat a concussion with in here, but at least there are some breakable ice packs and hydroxide….where are you sore, Honoka? I can clean it up.”

“I could probably do that myself,” She replies, taking the bottle of hydroxide, “I didn’t know this is what you were waiting for! I’ve had to do this plenty of times.”

“You’ve been punched?!” Umi says, eyes widening to their maximum range, eyebrows shooting up as high as allowed. “When? Who did it?”

Unscrewing the lid and getting the cotton gauze pad ready, Honoka shakes her head slightly. “Nobody punched me, I’m just clumsy. There are plenty of ways to get cuts.” She pours some of the cleaning agent onto the pad and slowly brings it to her forehead, in the cut above her eyebrow. She winces as the pats it down gently. Umi sits in front of her, tensed and prepared to step in at the drop of a hat. Despite the hissing and grimacing, Honoka is able to clean her own wounds, and pulls the pad away slightly bloodied. “Can you put the bandaid on? Since I can’t see where the biggest part of the cut is…”

Umi quickly pulls out two and unpackages them, careful to leave only padding and not the sticky part over the wound. This brand is supposed to secrete something to speed along healing once they’ve been opened, so they shouldn’t have to worry about removing them to clean the wounds again.

As an extra measure, Umi sticks a bandaid underneath Honoka’s eye, too. At the curious look it gets her, she responds with a shrug. “For your black eye.”

Honoka looks down and grins all of a sudden, taking the roll of medical tape. “Hold out your hand!”

“I’m sorry?”

Rolling her eyes, Honoka grabs for Umi’s hand and pulls it out in front of herself, then gets the medical tape out and wraps it around Umi’s finger – the same one her own bandaid was removed from earlier. When she’s secured the tape, Honoka brings Umi’s hand to her face and leaves a quick, sweet kiss on the finger. “To make it better.” She explains with a goofy grin.

Umi thinks back to the time Hanayo did the same, and suddenly dons a very concentrated expression. She leans over to where Honoka is sitting and presses a kiss above the human’s bandaids.

When she pulls away, Honoka’s grin is even wider. “Did I do that right?”

“Sure did! My wounds will heal in record time~!” She chirrups in a sing-song voice.  

“That’s good to hear.” Umi says approvingly. “We should get going before the search parties arrive. I don’t suppose you have a location in mind?”

With a concentrated expression that almost looks more like a pout, Honoka crosses her arms and considers it. “Uhh…….I bet there are still real nice vacation house sorta places intact near Fuji. Unless it erupted while I was out. Did it?”

“The volcano was active sixty years ago, but it’s been dormant since.” Umi replies. “The area has been cleaned up, though. Maybe a little too well….we’d only be able to stay there for a little while before someone came in to check and found us.”

Honoka shrugs. “If we’re on the run anyway, we might as well hit up the pretty places first, right?”

Umi maps the way there that will be the least obstructed by bodies of water and gives a shrug of her own. Feeling playful, she offers her arm up like a chauffeur in one of the movies Honoka had watched back in her home, as if Honoka is a fair lady in need of an escort. “I suppose you have a point. Shall we?”

Honoka takes hold of her hand instead of her elbow, and then they’re off. Through the trees she can make out the rising sun, brilliant and red from the polluted air, lighting their path. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tragically, Kotori never had that change of heart, at least not to the point where she could follow Umi. Even then....you can't exactly say Kotori stayed the same as she was in the beginning of the story, either. The confrontation was actually the half of the chapter that I had written before I took the long break, so I'm hoping it holds up with the rest of the story. Umi and Honoka are on their own now - and I'm Extremely tickled by the idea of the two of them walking off into the sunrise holding hands. Hope this wasn't too awkward compared to the first four - and thank you for reading! Sorry to keep you waiting half a year aklsjfsklg


End file.
